An Unexpected Voyage
by SimonStormcloak
Summary: Allectus Merentius, a Colovian Noble, boards the Bloated Float Inn as part of his investigation into lower-class lifestyles. What he does not expect, though, is an adventure at seas, and a deadly situation with hostile brigands. Rated T for violence, part 2 in the Sidequest Shorts series.


"Good evening, sir." Said the barkeep as I stepped through the doors of the Bloated Float Inn. "I trust you are having a nice time?"

"Quite." I replied, giving a courteous smile. The place stank of wine- not in the good way you'd smell in most dives. The smell of grog and unclean filth was not the most pleasant smell. I was here though, and I'd have to face it.

I wasn't a regular here, nor was I dressed for the part. My velvet outfit and blue suede shoes were fit for a Noble, not the arrant peasantry that was torn shirts and worn linens. I questioned why I came here in the first place; 'twas not because of a bet, a dare, or anything of the sort.

Rather, I had come to this wretched place simply for pleasure, for knowledge. My whole life I had been contained to nobility and the finest of accommodations. Not once had I thought about how peasants and lowlifes lived until now. It was the night before I had pondered upon the subject, after reading the fantastic book _Beggar Prince _by an unknown author. The book was about a man named Wheedle, and his encounter with the Daedric Prince Namira. Well, we can assume it was a man. The novel has such ambiguity; it goes out of it's way not to imply any gender towards Wheedle. Anyway, the opening line was such:

"_We look down upon the beggars of the Empire. These lost souls are the poor and wretched of the land. Every city has its beggars. Most are so poor they have only the clothes on their backs. They eat the scraps the rest of us throw out. We toss them a coin so that we don't have to think too long about their plight."_

It made me wonder how these peasants, these homeless men and mer of utter irrelevance managed to get by in life. Therefore, when morning came after a comfortable sleep, I ate my breakfast and informed my servants I was heading down to the waterfront for the day to observe and possibly interview some of the beggars and homeless.

The day was quite pleasant actually. I talked with a few townsfolk about their life, most were glad to oblige. Others... not so much. There was one, a Bosmer, who shot four arrows at me before I ran with my tail between my legs. After the day was over and the sun began to set, I headed to the nearest Inn, which a City Guard informed me was the Bloated Float, a ship-turned-tavern, where the lower class of the Imperial City came to drink. It was the day after this eve, though, that something truly spectacular was to happen.

After greeting the barkeep, I took a seat at the stool nearest the bar. I decided to strike up a conversation with the publican, a seemingly friendly Altmer with burgundy linens and high style hair.

"So is this your first time here?" The elf asked, cleaning out a silver mug with a rag. "I'm terrible at keeping track of visitors, but I know we don't get many like you 'round here."

He spoke with a sophisticated accent, as most elves of his kind do, but it surprised me for a commoner to be so skilled in the art of speechcraft; his charismatic voice was interesting.

"It is, yes." I replied.

"Well then, allow me to welcome you to the Bloated Float, the finest Inn in all of the waterfront!"

"... And the only." I said.

"True, true," He nodded while he spoke. "It helps with publicity though. Care for a drink?"

"A Surilie 399," I requested.

He chuckled. "You think we have such luxuries?"

"Sorry," I said, smiling. "Got any 415?"

"There we go. Six bottles, each unopened."

"How much for one?"

"How much are you willing to pay?"

"I have around two hundred and sixty on me," I said. "I usually count."

"I'll give you a bargain, say 35 Septims. That reasonable?"

"I've got plenty at home, so I'll take it." I pulled out my purse and counted thirty five gold pieces, with an extra three gold tip. Putting the payment on the counter, I arose from my seat and took the bottle, carefully examining it to ensure that it was genuine.

The wine was in fact genuine, and I poured it into a mug given to me by the bartender, who introduced himself as Ormil. The drink tasted excellent as I poured it down my throat.

"So what brings such nobility over here, to the waterfront?" He said, folding his arms onto the table.

"Curiosity, mainly," I replied, taking another sip. "I'm used to such high life, figured I might come down and check the place out."

"Most of the people we get are Imperial, so I'd not be surprised if it was not for your attire. What is your name, anyway?"

"Allectus Merentius." I replied. "Like I said, nobility."

"Really? Are you in any way related to Amelius Merentiu-"

"First cousin, once removed." My older first cousin, once removed, Amelius Merentius was an alchemist, famous in Colovia for his book entitled _"The Alchemedium"_, a riveting fantasy about an ancient book containing recipes for all alchemical mixtures, and a man's quest to save his dying brother with a so-called "Elixir of life". I had only met him a few times, but he was a nice man, in his sixties by now.

"Fascinating. Now I've got a fair degree of separation, eh?"

"Yes, I suppose you do."

For the rest of the night I drunk, finishing off two more 415s before renting a room. It was quite small, with a tiny bed, but it was surprisingly comfortable. I was looking forward to the day after, when I would return home from the waterfront, but fate seemed to have a very different idea in mind...


End file.
